


You Make Me Sick For Being So Perfect

by watchthequeenconquer



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Back Pain, Belly Rubs, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Headaches & Migraines, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mood Swings, Multiple Orgasms, No Bleeding, PMS, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Stomach Ache, Vaginal Fingering, Warning for Racial Slur against a woman of colour, being a tough woman is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchthequeenconquer/pseuds/watchthequeenconquer
Summary: Already feeling unwell, Eudora's hormones get the better of her and she snaps during an training incident at the Police Academy. A concerned Diego shows up at her apartment and takes care of her in more ways than one.





	You Make Me Sick For Being So Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is bizarrely heterosexual for me - but I love Eudora and Diego! 
> 
> Shockingly there are no tags for PMS on AO3 - so just want to preface this by saying Eudora is basically going through all the moody, bloaty, crampy pre-period symptoms that many women experience. It feels really weird writing this, but no spotting (bleeding) in this instance - sorry if that's weird, but just wanted to clarify as I couldn't find anything similar to go off (please feel free to point out if there are other tags I should mention!) 
> 
> The incident that get Eudora dismissed is a racial slur from a co-worker. I am not a woman of colour so have just written it from my thoughts on this character - also unsure of how this would've been handled in the Police Academy (likely more seriously). 
> 
> I have complete respect for bad ass women kicking ass in traditionally male-oriented professions, so if this at all comes off like Eudora is not capable of handling herself, that is not my intention. As Diego reinforces in their discussing, I think she's just having a tough time dealing with her hormones, and that is totally cool! 
> 
> There is sexy stuff beyond all this raving, so I hope you enjoy! x

Eudora Patch storms into the locker room of the Police Academy. It’s blessedly empty and she slams the flat of her palm into the cold metal of the door.

“Fuck!”

The satisfying sound of the metal ricocheting off the walls is gratifying for a second, but does nothing to ease her pounding head, heart rate skipping in irritation.

She yanks the locker room door open, hissing as her head throbs when she lets the door clang loudly against the locker beside it. She’s beyond glad that it was hand to hand combat today as opposed to shooting practise that she chose to fuck up in so spectacularly, because she’s suddenly developed an uncharacteristic itch to put a bullet through someone.

Why does she do this to herself?

“Clear!” An irritatingly familiar voice projects authoritatively from the door.

The announcement does nothing to settle Eudora’s general state of unease. Dark eyes blackened fall heavily shut in a bid to control the melee of sensations battling within. Embarrassment settles on the fringes, taking pot shots when it can, while anger throttles pride, clearly wounded but unable to back down.

“Negative!” Eudora yells back, sharper than intended.

This does nothing to deter the intruder and she rolls her eyes before focusing on hefting her gym bag onto the bench.

“What part of I’m partially or completely naked didn’t register in your tiny brain? I could’ve been anyone!” She snaps through gritted teeth, pulling out her civilian clothes as she drags off her training shirt gracelessly.

When she looks up, clad in the sports bra that makes her non existent chest look even more diminutive, Diego Hargreeves is taking in the view, leaning against a locker with his arms folded across his chest.

Eudora glares at him sharply, shaking her head in annoyance as she grabs her button up shirt and begins fumbling with the buttons.

When his regular smart ass, flirty comments aren’t forthcoming, she doesn’t know whether to be relieved or concerned.

“Oh, I don’t know, Eudora...” Diego begins lightly. If he uses her first name to bait her into paying attention to him, she falls for it, hook line and sinker.

“Don’t call me that!” Her voice is threatening, but cool, measured, unlike her actions as she nearly tears a button off in her hasty attempts to get it through the hole.

Anger has trounced all other contenders and is screaming at the top of its lungs for more blood as it does a victory lap. Her common sense is telling her to reign it in, keep it professional.

“Patch.” Diego corrects, suppressing a playful smirk, not even pretending to not be aware of why she’s admonishing him, “Call it a lucky guess. Do you know anyone else who was dismissed from training early?”

She doesn’t reply, too busy focusing on securing the final buttons before shucking her sweats without pre-amble.

“You nearly took Adams’ head off.” Even without looking at him as she grabs for her pants, Eudora can hear the smile in his voice before he gets it under control.

“He’s an asshole.” Eudora throws back, dragging on her skinny jeans. She curses quietly as she wiggles into them, hating her too thin legs for forcing her to wear something so skin tight. Anything even resembling a regular, comfortable cut makes her look like a child.

When she looks back at him finally, daring him to argue, the concern there stops her dead in her tracks.

“What happened out there?” Diego asks from a metre away from her. The distance he’s given her alone should have set off alarm bells from the jump. He’s never been put off by her general coolness, invading her personal space with his infectious laughter and bumping shoulders and too loud conversation at every oppourtunity.

“He told me to take my best shot and I did.” Eudora bites back, regathering herself as she turns her back to him to grab her shoes from her locker.

The door has swung half shut again. She goes to jam it open, but Diego’s there before she can blink, firmly blocking her passage with his arm.

“Uh-huh. What else did he say?” He pushes, forcing her to meet his gaze. His almond shaped eyes aren’t crinkled at the edges like they normally are when he talks to her. She’s never noticed before how dark his eyes can get when he’s worked up and she catches herself for being so ridiculous before she answers.

“Get out of my way.” Eudora meets his eyes evenly, feeling irritating spiking again through her system.

This moment typifies everything she loves and loathes about being a woman in such a male dominated space. Why she’s worked her way up to be one of the best amongst the cadets, always thinking a step ahead in field and theory exercises, plotting advantages where she can’t win on physical strength alone.

She’s have to be quick if she wanted to hurt him, aim for his throat or gouge at his eyes or chop at the exposed inside of his elbow with everything she had.

“Or what? You’re going to choke me out too?” There isn’t a hint of a joke in Diego’s voice as he stares at her seriously, coaxes her from her musing. “I know it took more than that for you to lose your cool.”

“Don’t make me ask again.” Eudora warns, eyes narrowing.

“Come on...OW!”

She kicks him indelicately in the shin with her training boot, delighting as the perfect amount of force causes him to stumble aside. It’s hard enough to bruise but nothing more serious that might cause him to end up out of action for the day like she is.

“Was that necessary?” He winces, slumping heavily on the bench, gripping his shin. It only pisses her off more that he doesn’t retaliate like he normally would. She’s no match for his strength and speed, but she’s handy with a submission hold.

These sorts of interactions, beginning with a disagreements before fists get involved, normally end with them both in a competitive jumble of limbs on the floor with the loser shouting the winner a beer.

Her stomach twists painfully at the realisation that it isn’t going her way this time. The pain is so sharp and unexpected she has to consciously stop herself from grabbing at her middle.

Shit, shit, double shit. Is it that time of month already?

“In case you didn’t get it already, I’m not playing today.” She replies curtly, cocking her leg up on the seat beside him as she drags off her boots and replaces them with flats. Her stomach cramps again with double the enthusiasm and she fights back a groan.

Great. She’s literally a walking stereotype of all the reasons women shouldn’t be on the force.

“I’m not leaving you alone until you talk to me.” Diego tells her flatly. He’s so stubborn and with her body choosing this moment to betray her in its femininity, she doesn’t have the strength to fight him anymore.

“Promise not to make a big deal out of it.” It’s meant to be an order, but it comes out slightly too soft. The urge to put her fist through a wall is tempered by something softer, wetter, an alarmingly prickling behind her eyes.

Shit.

Diego nods, knowing better than to speak.

Eudora shuts her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully as the scene replayed in her head. Adams has always been a loud-mouth with a chip on his shoulder who couldn’t stand to see her rise above him. He’d always had it out for her, but she’d never bothered to acknowledge it. But when they’d been paired to spar, feeling strangely under the weather, he had finally gotten under her considerably thick skin.

“He said he’d give me the first shot free for all those years his ancestors worked mine on the plantations.” She reflects, her tone almost detached in its calmness. Hindsight is easier.

Diego’s eyes widen almost comically before narrowing dangerously, hands twitching at his sides as if to grab some invisible weapon before forcibly relaxing.

“Then he said it was a shame any genetic benefits from years of physical labour were wasted on me because I was only a woman.”

She exhales, mimics the motions with practised strokes, letting some more of the adrenaline burn off.

“Swing, duck, rear naked chokehold with unnecessary forearm to the face to bring him to ground.”

Diego’s nostrils are flaring agitatedly and he shouldn’t look as good as he does. Something inside her sings in satisfaction at his anger, warms almost affectionately when she sees him suppress his instinctive desire to step in.

“Dick. His nose deserved to end up all over the gym floor.” He snorts as he stands, giving her a nod of appreciation. He doesn’t need to ask if she’s going to report Adams. The grin on their commanding officers face was enough even as he ordered Eudora to take the rest of the day off. 

“I still shouldn’t have snapped like that.” Eudora’s brief smile of thanks is interrupted with a frown. Hopefully this doesn’t affect her chances of becoming first in the class.

“I would’ve done way worse.” Diego disagrees, mimicking snapping their class mates neck and stomping his body into the floor. She knows he would’ve too, probably got himself kicked out of the Academy for it. She knows she shouldn’t encourage him, but it’s so exaggerated that she has to fight to keep the smile from breaking out over her face.

“Oh, I’m aware. But unlike you, I don’t have a second career as a child superhero to fall back on.” Eudora laughs, shutting her locker and slinging her bag. She cackles when Diego’s face drops into an almost childish scowl.

“Merciless teasing. That’s what I get for baring my soul to you...amongst other things.” And there’s the arrogant grin, the slight swagger in his walk as he moves effortlessly back into her space. She knows he doesn’t need to breathe for extended periods, wonders fleetingly if that’s why he seems to take all the air out of the room wherever he goes.

“That’s why neither of us should drink tequila.” Eudora raises both well shaped eyebrows at him, before giving his shoulder a shove so she can move past him. The movement takes more effort than it should.

She feels the colours suddenly drain from her face as she steps shakily past him, beelines for the exit without another word.

“You don’t look so hot.” Diego falls easily into step beside her.

“Noted, Hargreeves.” Eudora throws back with a roll of her eyes, hiking her gym bag higher up on her shoulder. The exit at the end of the hall suddenly seems way too far away.

“Don’t be like that. Seriously, are you okay?” A heavy hand on her free shoulder nearly stops her in her tracks.

“I’m fine, Diego.” She brushes him off quickly before she can loose anymore momentum. Sweat is heading on her forehead. Her high pony tail is scalping her and her stomach is beginning to protest more fiercely.

“See you around.” She throws over her shoulder as he slows to a stop.

“Are we still on for later?” He yells, watching her go.

“Sure!” She calls back, cursing herself immediately for not thinking as she barges out the door.

*  
“Why am I such an idiot?” Eudora groans to herself from her prone position on the couch, hot water bottle clutched desperately to her abdomen.

She knew if she called off her regular weekly beer and prime time television session with Diego, he would understand. It wasn’t like they were anything serious, a point she had made abundantly clear after that one night when quiet drinks after a particularly tough day at work had resulted in them getting blind drunk and her riding him until they both came so hard they screamed.

She was too committed to succeeding in the Academy to commit to anything with a co-worker and for his persistence, Diego was the first one to admit he was kind of a mess.

The situation worked for both of them - competitive cadets driven to succeed in a high pressure environment who found a solution to blow off steam with each other. Beneath that, the woman desperate to succeed in a profession where her skin and gender worked against her and the man with a circus for a past and some serious Daddy issues needed the affection more than either was willing to verbally acknowledge.

“Why!” She moans, louder than intended, when the doorbell rings, dragging herself off the couch gingerly.

She should’ve called it off, but after lying on her couch in the foetal position for the rest of the afternoon trying not to cry from the pain, she really needs someone to take her mind off the chaos of the day.

“Yo.”

She drags the door open without greeting him, before flopping back onto the couch with a groan in a pile of blankets.

“Good evening to you too.” Diego grins with a mocking bow before he walks in, smile widening as he pulls off his leather jacket and drops a six pack on the table, “You didn’t have to put all this effort in. Now I feel underdressed.”

Clad simply in an Academy issue grey t-shirt and black sweats, Diego still manages to look infuriatingly good. The t-shirt looks two sizes too small, making his lightly muscled arms bulge impressively, pulling across his chest as he folds his arms. The barest hint of his nipple ring is visible against the plain material.

If he wore his sweats that low at work, he’d get written up. The deliberate oversight exposes a delicious strip of honey coloured skin where the waist should be. The V cut of his hip bones are just visible and it makes Eudora want to salivate and throw up at the same time.

“You don’t like what you see?” Eudora responds suggestively, lifting the blanket to present herself to him.

She knows she looks awful, hair pulled back into a messy bun. She doesn’t pull off her own drab Academy issue tee half as effortlessly, shrugging into the first thing that wouldn’t constrict her painfully swollen belly. A pair of oversized boxers slip off her skinny hips, with too many holes to be acceptable social attire.

“Damn, girl.” Diego teases, whistling appreciatively and she drops back under the blanket while giving him the finger.

“Don’t act like you’re better than me. I may be a slob, but at least I’m not an exhibitionist. You’d be naked all the time if you could avoid the public indecency charge.” Eudora observes dryly, shivering suddenly as she curls in on herself further beneath the blankets.

“You know it.” Diego agrees, cracking a beer and offering it to her. She shakes her head and he cocks his head in confusion, scarred eyebrow raising up into his buzzed short hairline.

“No beer on tight ass Tuesday’s? Now I know something’s wrong with you.” Diego abandons the beer on the table for the far more interesting pursuit and drops down onto the couch to interrogate her.

“I’m fine.” Eudora brushes him off, making herself smaller as another cramp makes her muscles seize. She is equal parts annoyed and proud that he was just as good at the observational side of their work as he was at cracking skulls. Regardless, she resents being reduced to some domestic mystery for a rookie to close.

“You’re clearly not.” Diego observes, reeling of the facts with infuriating accuracy, “I’m sweating balls because it’s so hot in here, but you’re freezing under those blankets. The thermostat is nearly broken it’s cranked so high.”

“True genius at work.”

“You’re rejecting alcohol which is basically mandatory in our line of work. And you look even worse than usual - which isn’t a hard to top but...”

Eudora’s arm slips out to punch him feebly in the side. She regrets the decision almost immediately when she brushes against one of her way too tender breasts.

“I know it’s not cancer because you’re still swinging on me.” Diego jokes, leaning forward with his hands on his knees as he scrutinises her more closely.

“I’m not sick.” Eudora sighs, burying her head further into the pillow. She tries to kid herself in thinking she could’ve avoided this situation by cancelling on him, but knowing Diego he would’ve just showed up anyway, breaking in through the window if she didn’t answer. The thought almost makes her smile. Almost.

“Are you p-pregnant?” Diego tries, swallowing thickly as he slips over the word clumsily, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

She pokes her head up higher to raise both eyebrows at the ridiculousness of his statement, waiting slightly too long to respond just to watch him sweat.

“Yeah, I invited you around to tell you you’re the father, asshole.” Eudora says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Phew...just trying to cover all bases!” Diego throws his hands up in frustration, before slapping them back down onto his thighs again.

The silence that settles between them isn’t exactly comfortable. Eudora uses the lull to regain her strength, shutting her eyes for a fraction of a second in a bid to quiet her thudding head.

“Soooo....” Diego stares at her blankly until she cracks open her eyes to roll them so forcibly it makes her head hurt more.

“Women’s issues.” Eudora supplies helpfully, waiting for the wonderment followed by disgust that such an admission normally inspires in the opposite sex.

Diego processes the new information, chewing it over in his head and then laughs loudly.

“That’d explain why you seemed weird today. Poor Adams’ never stood a chance.” Diego snickers. He follows this by unceremoniously trying to lift the covers much to Eudora’s horror.

“That has nothing to do with it! He totally deserved what he got.” Eudora huffs, grabbing the edge of the blankets and fighting to keep herself covered. If he honestly thinks that her whaling on Adams was solely down to her pre-menstrual mood swings, then she will personally file the mission person’s report after she hides his decapitated body.

“That’s not what I meant.” Diego snorts like she’s the one being unreasonable, flapping his free hand as he tried to explain while using the other to make ground on securing the blanket from her grasp, “You just seemed...kinda unstable?”

“Excuse me?!”

Set on making him regret his words, Eudora lashes out with a poorly aimed kicked towards his ribs. He dodges it easily, grabbing her foot to let her know how sloppy it was before dropping it .

“Jesus woman, would you listen for a second without attacking me?” Diego asks incredulously. When a bristling glare is his only response, he forges on bravely.

“In the locker room, you seemed kinda...shaken.” 

“Adrenaline.” Eudora explains through gritted teeth, yanking the covers up to her chin defiantly.

“You were scattered and pale and you kinda looked like you were in pain. You just weren’t yourself, so it makes sense.” He concludes in a rush of words, trying to get it all in before she can argue.

Eudora huffs but remains quiet.

“So I’m not wrong?”

“Maybe.” It’s not a confession, but it’s something.

“Have you eaten?”

“Out of chocolate.”

Diego scoffs.

“If you want another fight, tell me it’s not a good group right now!” Eudora warns testily.

“Water?” She lobs an empty plastic bottle at his head, and he dodges it before getting up to refill it dutifully.

“Aspirin?” He asks as he returns from the kitchen.

“Taken but it’s not helping. Could you call your brother for something to take the edge off?” She asks dryly, before making seriously undignified grabby hands towards the table. “Maybe I will have that beer...”

“Hell no.” Diego places the bottle back into her outstretched hand.

“Why are you even here again if all you’re going to do is torture me?” Eudora asks, her hand flopping dejectedly to the floor, dangerously close to pouting.

“Are you going to let me under now?” Diego asks, so soft it makes her chest hurt.

“Fine.” She murmurs, clutching her hot water bottle tighter to her as she throws the covers back obligingly and wriggles forwards.

Without fuss, Diego gracefully eases over her and slots between her and the couch. He makes sure her feet are tucked beneath the blankets before lying down himself on his side.

“Was that so hard?” He mutters huffily, fussing over her pillow as he presses himself against her back.

“Don’t get used to it. You caught me in a moment of weakness.” Eudora quips, shivering for an entirely different reason when his warm breath plays on the exposed back of her neck.

“You’re always soft around me.” Diego grins, pressing his lips to the back of her neck fondly as she splutters in protest.

“If you try anything funny, I will not hesitate to throw up on you.” Eudora threatens, not really meaning the words. Even in her compromised state, she feels the blush spreading from her ears down her neck at the faintest touch.

“You’re the boss, lady cop.” Diego hums in agreement.

As the warm light and gentle babble of the television murmur in the background, the two settle into a companionable silence.

*

Eudora doesn’t know when she dozes off, but when she opens her eyes sleepily it’s dark. It’s an effort to remain conscious with the warm hand stroking her hair.

“What are you doing? ‘Time is it?” She murmurs vaguely.

“Shhh.” Diego hushes against her back. The rustle of the blankets signals his free hand moving. She must’ve dropped her hot water bottle at some point because she starts when it settles on her tender belly, warm where her shirt has rucked up in her sleep.

“You sure about that baby thing?” He jokes lightly. Calloused fingers that still manage to be irritatingly smooth tentatively rub soothing circles into the taut skin.

“I will kill you.” She murmurs, tensing under his hand, suddenly self conscious. She sometimes forgets that while he’s her friend first, he’s also her fuck buddy. Her current state of appearance isn’t helping her chances of ever getting laid again.

“Relax. Just take a breath.” Diego instructs, voice low. She tries for him, pushing her belly back out into his hand, try not to flush again when he hums appreciatively.

“It’s not normally this bad...” Eudora states offhandedly, just for something to say, anything to take her mind off him touching her when she’s like this.

“You’re fine. Stop stressing.” Diego cuts her off, rubbing slightly higher on the upper curve of her abdomen.

She bites back a groan, hoping he doesn’t catch it. If he’s enjoying it as much as she is, she can’t tell. His facial expressions and any other potential physical signs are hidden behind her. Despite the soreness, the light friction is delicious and it takes her mind off the aching sensation everywhere his hand roams.

“Feel good?” He asks, not stopping in his pathway higher, lavishing her belly with firm, long strokes across its width.

“Yeah...” She replies, drifting again. She unconsciously presses further back into him, chasing the contact.

She inhales sharply when his hand collided with the underwire of her sports bra, hissing when the gentle bump causes her tender breasts to lift slightly.

“Shit, sorry.” Diego swears gently, dropping his hand back to her belly.

“It’s nothing.” Eudora assures him, squirming uncomfortably in spite of herself. She had meant to change it before he came into something more flattering and comfort driven, but she’d fallen asleep on the couch in between bouts of cramps and headaches.

Now the padded wire feels like it’s cutting into her skin and the straps are too tight over her shoulders and goddammit, being a woman sucks sometimes.

“Does it hurt?” Diego asks plainly, stilling behind her.

“Yeah, but it’s fine.” Eudora reaffirms, shrugging back into a more comfortable position.

“Take it off.” Diego states like it’s the most obvious conclusion in the world.

“Seriously?” Eudora makes the effort to twist her head around incredulously, glancing over her shoulder at him. His expression is completely genuine, and he removes his hands from her as if to signal his less than devious intent.

“Deadly. I won’t even look.” Diego raises one hand solemnly in the air. Scout’s honour.

“Swear on your stupid domino mask.” Eudora demands, pinning him with her most withering stare.

“When you were in better health, I could’ve sworn that you liked that mask.” Diego argues, before giving in, “I swear on my bad ass domino mask, that the less crazy version of you likes...A LOT...”

Turning her back to him to hide her smirk, Eudora slips out of her t-shirt and makes quick work of the bra clasp, throwing it onto the floor. The exposure to the cool night air makes her feel instantly better, even if her nipples do peak slightly painfully in the fresh evening air. “Just because of that.” She tells herself as she pulls her shirt back on. Nothing else.

“Decent?” Diego asks impatiently, and when she turns in surprise, she finds his eyes covered with his hand. She ignores the way the stupidly innocent gesture makes her heart thud warmly.

“Diego Hargreeves, who knew you could be such a gentleman?” Eudora teases as she slips back into his waiting arms.

“Don’t use that name!” He huffs before grinning childishly, “And for the record, I was totally peeking!”

She squirms girlishly in his arms as she giggles despite her better judgement, sighing as she finds a comfortable position.

“Better?” Disco asks, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he begins stroking her belly again. 

“You have no idea.” Eudora sighs. She freezes against him when the sentence ends on a moan that she wasn’t able to contain.

“No, I don’t.” Diego agrees, and she almost thanks him for politely ignoring the involuntary admission, “I’ve had my pecs strapped before when I was injured at the Academy and that kinda sucked. No great when you’ve got a piecing, and that’s without...you know...tits.”

“And there it goes!” The admonishment is lost in her helpless laughter. His warm chuckle causes his body to vibrate against her back, firm and invitingly warm.

They lay there in silence for a while longer, Diego working over her belly and Eudora quietly basking in the affectionate touches. When he thinks she can take it, he flips his wrist and runs his knuckles lightly over the curve of her belly.

Her breath catches at the change in sensation when he presses slightly, testing the gentle spring of the soft flesh. He must sense it, because he’s shifts purposely behind her, hips suddenly losing contact with her lower back.

“Is it okay?” He asks when her breath catches again with the next caress, ever the giver. His voice is decidedly rougher than when he last spoke, despite his best attempts to keep it under wraps.

“It better than okay.” Her words are barely more than a whisper, and she doesn’t catch the quiet moan that escapes her lips quickly enough.

She feels the blush returning when she wonders if he’s half hard in his sweats behind her, keeping himself away to protect some misplaced sense of her modesty. God, they are stupid together sometimes.

“Sure?” Diego confirms, mistaking her outburst for pain.

“It’s the best I’ve felt all day, Diego.” She reassures him, pressing into his hand. Her headache has reduced to a mild buzzing around the edges of her skull and the nap has eased her nausea. Rather than churning or seizing, her belly is buzzing with warmth.

“You can go lower.” Eudora suddenly instructs bravely, feeling herself flush at her own brazenness. Her tattered boxer have already acquiesced, slung lower on her hips with each shift.

“Jesus Eudora, I’m not doing this to get into your pants!” Diego sounds almost affronted at the suggestion and she hates herself for nearly whinging when he goes to take his hands off her completely.

“I want you to, idiot.” She exclaims, before guiding his hand back to the edge of her too loose waistband. The large flat of his palm covers her lower belly deliciously, thin, strong fingers flexing hesitantly.

“I...” He falters and she knows she’s going to have to make the decision for him.

“You’re so precious sometimes.”

Eudora reaches over her back and grabs him as roughly as she dares by the waist, slotting their hips back together, pressing his half hard dick to press against her still clothed ass.

“F-fuck, go easy on me!” Diego stammers, hissing almost apologetically at his body’s unintentional response to their close contact. His hand is still painfully still on the top of her underwear.

“I promise it’s okay. Please?” She asks, twisting her head slightly to face him.

When he goes to respond, no doubt something disgustingly considerate about them both not being up for it, Eudora kisses him messily. Their teeth clash and he grunts in alarm when she presses her tongue softly into his mouth.

“Okay.” He repeats back to her almost deliriously when she pulls off, expression dazed as her eyes sparkle mischievously.

“Yes.” She coos when his hand breaches the gap between the waistband, fingers running through the divots in the raised skin.

“Shit.” He groans behind her, hips bucking forward involuntarily when his hand brushes the thick trail of dark pubic hair waiting below.

“Sorry, I should’ve...” It’s been a while since they last had the chance to fool around and it shows in her lack of preparation.

“No, no, no.” Diego groans, words thick and dry like he’s swallowed his tongue as he gently strokes and pulls at the hair, making her breathing hitch, her ass grinding back into his rapidly hardening dick, “Don’t ever be sorry for that...”

“Lower?” She moans feverishly, head thrown back into his collarbone. She can hear him panting as he fights to contain his own desire, trying to do the right thing by her as she writhes almost wantonly against him.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” He asks again cautiously. His ability to check his own need for her benefit makes her want to cuss out and fawn over the woman who raised him all at the same time.

“Come on, Diego.” Eudora breathes out, refusing to ask again. She refuses to say that she needs this or that she needs him, that’s not the way their thing works. But this is the closest she’s come to feeling normal in this complete shit show of a day and she’ll do anything to hang onto the feeling.

“Alright.” When his fingers finally move, the relief is so powerful she could cry if she weren’t so obsessed with looking tough in front of him.

She hears him release a strangled breath behind her as he palms her cunt with a firm squeeze before slipping his fingers gently into the folds.

“Jesus, you’re wet.” Diego murmurs against her ear, shifting uncomfortably behind her and it’s the understatement of the century.

“Told you I wanted it.” Eudora moans visibility now and it’s all the affirmation he needs to begin moving properly, not even bothering to remove her boxers properly as he begins working his wrist.

The angle must be awkward for him, but he preserves without complaint. The apartment is quiet, amplifying the increasingly loud, wet sounds his fingers are producing, stroking the length of her quickly and without finesse.

It should be embarrassing - she’s soaked through and they’ve only been at it for a few minutes, but she can’t bring herself to care as pleasure builds in her stomach.

“Good?” Diego grunts. It must take all of his considerable strength to remain still behind her.

“What...do you think?” Eudora groans back, and she hears him bite back a moan of his own when her pussy squelches loudly and appreciatively.

“Need to hear you say it.” Diego presses, panting. He begins unconsciously grinding into her ass. Without seeing, she imagines the concentration on his face as he fucks her with his hand, his untended dick bouncing as it tents his sweats.

“Oh god, it’s so fucking good, don’t stop.” Eudora sighs. Deciding showing him might be easier, her hips begin to match his motions, driving desperately to catch up with his fingers.

“Oh, fuck yes.” Diego curses, increasing his pace in tandem as she begins fucking herself on his hand. His fingers hiccup and circle and slide along the slick length of her so perfectly and she feels every digit.

She sweating suddenly and her body is trembling as he moves higher, parting the dripping folds to find the oversensited nub hidden beneath.

“You close?”

Diego doesn’t even need to ask when he uses the pad of his thumb to rub against her in maddeningly gentle circles. Her stomach constricts almost painfully with the sensation and she practically howls in response, dropping her head onto her chest as her hips begin to lose their rhythm.

She can’t even respond, just whines helplessly as the tremors in her body strengthen. Her internal walls are impossibly tight, clenching and releasing helplessly.

Despite the touches being light, Diego never lets up the intensity of his rhythm, using the rest of his fingers to continue laving against her entire cunt while mercilessly caressing her clit.

“Diego...I can’t...” Eudora mewls, unable to express her need, head thrashing against his chest as he continues his devastating rhythm as she feels the peak begin to hit her out of nowhere. It’s torture, feeling so good but not being able to get there. She wonders faintly if maybe she doesn’t have it in her despite his best intentions.

“I’ve got you.” Diego asserts stubbornly, never one to give up easily. For all her poor communication skills and emotional stuntedness, whether at work or in bed, he always has the right read on her, knowing exactly what she needs.

She doesn’t even have time to shout in surprise when he slides his other hand down the back of her boxers. The fabric tears and it only adds to the sweat pouring down her body as her legs part obediently for him.

“There you go.” Diego grunts, forcing his hand. between her cheeks and slipping two fingers inside of her without warning. The straining muscles barely have time to give way before he’s moving urgently inside her.

It’s all it takes for her to start coming, a startled keen tearing from her throat when the unexpected force of her orgasm blindsides her. She pushes herself down onto his fingers, bouncing messily.

It’s over almost too quickly and Eudora whines hungrily as she prepares to lose the contact, still wound too tightly. Diego must sense it, tests her temperament with his words. He doesn’t remove his hands, just slows his motions to give her a second to recover.

“So greedy, swallowing up my hand like that. Think I could fit my whole fist in there?”

Eudora clenches tightly around him in response. The moans falling from her lips are so not her, whorish and needy. It’s all the confirmation he needs.

“Yeah, I think you’ve got one more in you.” Diego affirms, before he begins fucking her harder than before.

Exhausted and over sensitised Eudora doesn’t even have a chance to argue before she feels the pleasure mounting again. She shouts when he slips a third finger inside her, catching on the lip of her hole as it enters in its haste.

The second orgasm crashes over her like a wave, drowning her and sweeping her under with the force of its pull. She screams silently, mouth falling open and eyes slammed shut in bliss as he fucks her gently through the crest of it.

“Can I call it or can I call it?” Diego congratulates himself proudly, waiting for her to stop trembling before he removes his fingers from inside her.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

Eudora glances blearily behind her just in time to see him sucking his fingers clean.

“Nah, this’ll do.” He pulls off his own fingers with a slick pop, winking at her, “Also you’re reaction to fisting?”

“Please forget that.” She groans.

“Etched into the memory bank.” He grins, waggling his dark eyebrows lewdly before his expression suddenly turns serious, “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Great. Do you need me to...?” Eudora gestures down at his neglected dick. The least she can do is return the favour.

“I’ll sort it.” He waves her off, hoping over her and heading towards the bathroom, before turning back to her thoughtfully, visibly readjusting himself, “Get comfortable. With so much great new material, I might be gone awhile.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” She returns, nose wrinkling in exaggerated disgust as his laughter is cut off by the bathroom door shutting.

She must doze off again because she feels herself being lightly jolted into consciousness when she feels her boxers being pulled from her legs.

“Round two?” Eudora murmurs blearily, before feeling the sensation of a warm, wet cloth between her legs. Her eyes widen in surprise as she bats a hand uselessly.

“Get off me!”

“You can’t sleep like that.” Diego scoffs as he wipes at her gently. The gesture is so strangely intimate that she has to fight the surge of tenderness that it stirs in her chest.

“Try me.” Eudora challenges as he dries her with a cloth.

“And you think I’m disgusting!” Diego shakes his head despairingly.

He slips a clean pair of boxers up her legs and she wonders faintly what boundaries must’ve been broken in their friends with benefits arrangement for him to become so familiar with the contents of her apartment.

“Thanks for this.” She murmurs vaguely as he wanders back to the bathroom to deposit the towels. She hopes it was so quiet that he didn’t hear her, but the smile plastered all over his face confirms otherwise when he returns.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Diego assures her as he slips back behind her on the couch, “You totally owe me now though.”

“Oh yeah?” She replies, voice thick with sleep as her eyes flutter shut.

The clock is reading midnight and she feels like she should tell him to leave. But then his arms are around her and starts stroking her belly again, wrapping around her in the darkness.

“Yeah, something dirty. Going to make you suck my dick in the locker room after training, no shower.” Diego whispers, lulling her to sleep with his rambling.

“Mmm...?” She whispers, mouth

“You like that, huh? Gonna make you call me Detective while I handcuff you to the bed and fuck you from behind...make you call me sir and wear your parade uniform while you ride my dick...” Diego continues, grinning to himself when she doesn’t respond.

She doesn’t hear him when he whispers goodnight, pulls the blankets up around the pair of them, makes sure her feet are tucked in before he kisses her on the forehead.

When she wakes in the morning feeling achy but well rested, he’s still there, snoring gently and pinning her to his chest with his arm locked tightly around her middle.

“Wake up, dumbass! We’re going to be late.” Eudora twists violently against him, turning in his grip to look at him.

Bathed in the early morning light, drooling on her pillow and looking more peaceful than she’s ever seen him, Diego looks so perfect that it makes her chest hurt.

Fuck.

Maybe she is sick after all.


End file.
